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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120396">Chances Are</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreveracumberbitch/pseuds/Foreveracumberbitch'>Foreveracumberbitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Parents, Break Up, Celebrity Crush, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: Cherry (2021), Original Character(s), Paparazzi, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tom Holland Is A Sweetheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:40:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreveracumberbitch/pseuds/Foreveracumberbitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was sat next to this very pretty girl..."<br/>He kept mentioning me briefly in interviews, but I don't think anyone except me remembered the actual events that occurred during his 3 days of being "undercover" at my school.<br/>Little did I know that our paths would continue to cross, at the worst possible times and for reasons unbeknownst to us.<br/>What are the chances of that?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Holland (Actor)/Peter Parker/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>June 2017</p>
<p> </p>
<p>\Chloe</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>[SMS\Luna ] Yo, Chlo, are you watching this Graham Norton interview right now? Tom Holland is on, and I think he's talking about your high school.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I glanced briefly at the text from my friend Luna, and felt my brow furrow. Tom Holland? The name was familiar but I couldn't place it in the moment. I made a mental note of where I was in my textbook, turned away from my very cramped and messy desk, and turned on the tv. My roommate was already asleep, so I quickly turned down the volume to a 4 to avoid waking her. That's right, 11:00 pm on a Friday night, and I was in my dorm room, studying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After turning to the correct channel, I leaned back in my squeaky desk chair, and began watching Graham Norton charm his guests with his radiant energy and infectious laugh. Sienna Miller was seated next to this teenager with wavy brown hair and very bright eyes. It was late, and my brain was only half functioning, but I gradually began comprehending the words softly floating out of my television set.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Graham: "Oddly, for Spider-Man, they sent you back to school!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The boy on the tv screen chuckled softly, and my brain suddenly registered who he was. Oh. My Lord.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tom: "Well, it was a joke! They don't - obviously - understand my British sarcasm. I said "Wouldn't it be funny if I went to an American high school undercover to see what it would be like to be an American high schooler?" And Marvel were like, "That's amazing, let's set it up."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh... the accent. The voice. It's all coming back to me now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tom: "I had a fake name -"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sienna: "What was your fake name?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I inhaled and breathed out, "Ben Perkins."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Graham: "But then, did you confide in some people?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tom: "Haha, yeah. So I was sitting next to this very pretty girl in class, and you have to go through an exam process to get into this school, which, obviously I didn't do. And she was like, "Hey man, what's your deal? How are you here?" And I said, "Well, let me tell you my secret. I'm actually Spider-Man." And she was like, "Dude, you're fucking nuts bro -"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At this point, the audience erupted into laughter as I fumbled with the remote and turned off the tv as fast as I possibly could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I felt my breath quicken. Bronx Science. That was my high school. That's where I had spent pretty much every minute of every grueling day from 9th to 12th grade, working so hard to get to where I am now. It had been over a year since I had met Ben Perkins, or whatever his name was. I'd never forgotten that genuinely sweet and kind boy that had so randomly showed up at our school, claiming to be a cousin of one of the students. He had certainly looked the part, but as soon as you spoke to him you could tell that he was different. I'd only interacted with him a few times, but each interaction was like a stamp in my brain. Seeing his face again (on my tv, no less) had definitely affected me in a way that I hadn't anticipated. I texted Luna back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>[SMS\Chloe] Just saw a snippet of it. Yep, that was definitely my school! Pretty weird, thinking about high school now.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few seconds later, a reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>[SMS\Luna] Uh, babe, you skipped the most important detail tho. Is it true?! Did you actually say that to him?!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I paused. This conversation didn't really need to continue. I was exhausted, and the few seconds of the interview I'd just witnessed were dredging up memories that I wanted to suppress.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>[SMS\Chloe] Tired. Let's FT tomorrow, deal?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>[SMS\Luna]... fine. BUT I WANT DETAILS. Goodnite, mwah.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>You're being ridiculous, Chlo,</em> I thought to myself. <em>There's no way in hell that he actually remembers your name, this is just an event that he's elaborated into an anecdote that's meant to make people laugh. They probably don't even think he's talking about a real person.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>I tried to return to studying, but couldn't focus on what I was doing at all. Tom's words kept replaying in my mind. <em>Pretty girl. He thought I was pretty. Omg, Chloe, get a grip.</em> That's all I was, though. Of course he wouldn't remember the actual conversations we had, or the moment I thought we'd shared. Perhaps I was just remembering things differently than they happened. Pretty girl. Just some pretty girl, in a story, a girl that didn't believe what a teenage boy told her. Could anyone blame me though? I mean, who believes everything they're told in high school?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. T W O</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Day 1 at Bronx Science.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chloe's last name is pronounced TAHng. Like Lang Lang, the pianist. </p>
<p>I know the kid that Tom shadowed is named Arun, but I changed the name in case I want to change all the names later on (even Tom's) so it's not about real people.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>T W O</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>February 2016</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>\Tom</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom felt ridiculous. One joke! He’d made one suggestion, as a joke, and here he was weeks later, at an American high school. No one was going to believe that he got into this school. There was no way in hell that people were going to think, “Yeah, alright, this kid’s a genius.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus, Tom. This is research. You’re doing research for a film that’s going to be amazing. You are going to be Spider-Man. But for now, you are Ben Perkins, you’re at Bronx Science, your dad’s in the military. I don’t know how believable that story is, but let’s give it a go. Okay. Backpack, check. Pencils and paper, check. American accent, check.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He quickly repeated a few of the more difficult words in an American accent in his head, silently mouthing pronunciations. He was seated in a long hallway, outside an office with a blue door that definitely needed a new coat of paint. There was currently an ongoing meeting with the principal, a few teachers that knew what was going on, and Tom’s guide (who was really more of a chaperone). All of a sudden, the door swung open, and a very tall teenage boy wearing thick black glasses walked out. Tom stood abruptly, and extended his hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, man. I’m Tom. I mean, I’m Ben.” He chuckled. The tall kid shook his hand, and smiled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Aaron.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks so much for doing this, dude. I appreciate it.” Tom shifted his weight nervously, and cleared his throat. He had figured it would be easier to steer clear of his natural accent the whole time, and it felt a bit foreign hearing the words coming out of his mouth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well, better get used to it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, my pleasure. It’ll be fun to show you around the place, even if you are only here for a few days. I’ll be able to give you the inside scoop of what it’s like to be a real American nerd,” he joked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom grinned, and slung his backpack over his shoulder.  “Great, I’m so ready. What’s our day gonna look like?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aaron began walking down the hallway towards some stairs. “Well, I have six 40-minute classes every day. Physics, calculus, robotics lab. It’s pretty standard here but I’m worried you might be a little bored. The teachers generally know not to call on you, so you should be fine there, but if things get boring, I’m sorry in advance.” He chuckled softly as they reached the top of the stairs. “First class is physics. Hold onto your hat.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They approached a classroom, and as Aaron opened the door, Tom caught a glimpse of the students inside. His stomach dropped, and he carefully stepped forward. The first thing he noticed was that no one wore uniforms. This was massively different from his secondary school experience. Suddenly, he realized that quite a few people in the room were looking at him inquisitively. He cleared his throat, and forced a smile and a tiny wave. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey everyone.” He noticed eyes darting around, at Aaron, then at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The teacher stepped forward, and placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Guys, this is Ben! He’s transferred here because his dad’s in the military and was just stationed here in New York. He’s also Aaron’s cousin! Thanks for joining us, Ben, feel free to sit wherever you would like.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aaron gestured to a few open seats in the back of the classroom. “Let’s sit back there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom sighed in relief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank God Aaron isn’t one of those front-row overachievers. Wait, I take that back, everyone here is definitely an overachiever compared to me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They took their seats, and the class began. Tom was immediately lost, and at the halfway point he began doodling in his notebook. He looked over at Aaron on his left (who was taking notes at a very furious pace), and then looked over to see who was on his right. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a girl, that much was obvious. She had long, thick, black hair that fell over her face and desk, so he couldn’t see her face. She appeared to be doodling as well, and seemed just as bored as he was. Probably for a different reason though. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder what she looks like, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he pondered. Just as the thought popped into his head, she lifted her head and looked right at him. Tom panicked, and felt his ears go hot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shitshitshit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked down at his paper and tried not to act more suspicious than he already felt. He heard her laugh quietly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi. How’s it going over there?” She was whispering as softly as she could, but just loud enough so he could hear her over the lecture. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom turned to meet her gaze, slowly. She was quite pretty; long hair, soft eyes, rounded nose. A lovely heart-shaped face, with high cheekbones that met at a soft pointed chin. He felt his ears grow even warmer. “Errrr, it’s going fine. Heh. I’m Ben.” He made sure to remember his fake name this time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Chloe.” She smiled, her full lips parting to reveal very straight teeth. “How’s your first day been so far?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom struggled to come up with a vague answer. “It’s been interesting. Learning a lot.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe glanced down at his notebook which was covered in doodles of stick figures, emojis, and Marvel logos for different superheroes. “I can see that,” she smirked. “You’re a very talented artist.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, damn it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She saw my awful drawings. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He whispered back, “Um, I process better when I draw.” Just then, the bell rang, and her response was drowned out by the sounds of backpacks zipping and notebooks slamming shut. He packed up his things as quickly as he could, but when he turned back to talk to her, she was already halfway to the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, dude. How are you doing?” Aaron’s voice broke into his thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom got up from his desk and shrugged. “Honestly, I’m pretty lost but it seems like a great class. Where are we off to next?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Calculus. Do you like math?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom hated maths. “Yeah, man. Totally. Love math.” He was determined to make the most of his time at Bronx Science, so he strapped on his backpack and walked with Aaron to his next class. The calculus teacher gave the same general introduction as the physics teacher did, and Tom took a seat next to Aaron. As he glanced around, he was surprised to see Chloe again, seated to his left this time. The class started with a pop quiz, and Tom did not have to act at all when he groaned along with the rest of the class. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How the hell am I going to take a quiz on something I know nothing about?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The teacher handed him a test and nodded knowingly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just do your best, Ben.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom sighed. His best was maybe algebra, but no one needed to know that. He looked down at his quiz, covered in symbols and squiggles that he couldn’t comprehend. He jotted some numbers down, and resorted to doodling. After 10 minutes, people got up and began handing their quizzes in, so he stood up and did the same. He’d written “sorry” at the top of his test, and he noticed the teacher suppressing a laugh as he turned it in. He turned to go back to his seat, and nearly ran right into Chloe who was standing right behind him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid fuckin’ ears,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he groaned inwardly, feeling them go warm again. He sat back down and put his head on his desk. As other students began turning in their quizzes, there were a few muffled whispers around the room. Tom jumped when he felt someone whisper in his ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you get for number 3?” Chloe had leaned in to compare answers, and he’d been so startled that they nearly butted heads. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry. I, uh-” Tom had never felt more panicked in his life. What did he get for number 3? “I, uh, left it blank.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe frowned. “Oh. You didn’t even make an educated guess?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Erm, no, sorry.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>She must think I’m an idiot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Calculus isn’t really my thing.” He ran a hand through his hair. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should have gotten a haircut, I probably look a mess. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe chuckled. “Gotcha.” She turned back to her textbook and started working on a thick packet that Tom prayed she wouldn’t ask him about. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The bell rang, and Tom followed Aaron to the next class. After 5 classes, it was finally time for lunch. Tom was relieved. Chloe had been in 3 of the 5 classes they’d had that day, and although she was cute and very charming, Tom felt like an idiot every time she asked him a question because he wasn’t really able to answer anything at all. The school cafeteria was very crowded, and none of the food looked very appetizing to Tom, whose stomach had basically been in knots all day. Aaron grabbed a few slices of pizza, and Tom settled on a juice box and some French fries that looked pretty harmless. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, this place looks pretty crowded. Do you mind if we eat somewhere quieter?” Tom asked. It would be great to decompress somewhere that wasn’t packed with genius teenagers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aaron’s face lit up. “Yeah! I know just the place. Come on.” They headed away from the cafeteria, and Aaron led them to this secluded corner by these tall windows. There were a few plants scattered around, and some plush, oversized chairs. Tom sank into a chair, and closed his eyes. Aaron chuckled. “Sorry, dude. I know it’s been a long day. How are you holding up?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, man. I’m so confused, but you guys know everything! You’re all, like, super smart. It’s incredible.” He paused and laughed softly. “I don’t know if this particular school was the best idea for me to learn about American high school. I doubt this is like any other school in America.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aaron tilted his head, pondering. “I suppose that’s true. But Peter Parker is supposed to be a genius nerd, so maybe this school is the closest thing to where he would attend? Just two more days, and you’ll be free!” He grinned and continued eating his pizza. Tom closed his eyes once more, and leaned back in his oversized chair. He heard footsteps approaching, and quickly opened his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. Chloe. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey guys! Aaron.” She nodded at Aaron, and then at the third chair in the corner. “Mind if I join you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all.” Aaron gestured at the chair in the corner, and Tom sat up. “Ben and I were just doing some catching up. I actually gotta run to the restroom, so I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and walked briskly down the hall towards the restrooms. Tom took a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Guess it’s just me and her now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So… you two are cousins, right?” Chloe pulled her legs up into a criss-cross, and reached into her bag. She pulled out a lunchbox, and as she removed the lid, Tom caught a whiff of the most amazing smell. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re cousins.” Tom leaned forward to see what Chloe was eating. “I’m sorry, I know it’s super weird to ask, but what is that? It smells incredible.” It looked like rice and green beans and some kind of stewed meat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not weird of you to ask, this is my mom’s famous braised pork belly. She is the best cook. Like, in the whole world. Do you want to try some?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a long, flat box that opened to reveal chopsticks and a long metal spoon. “You’re more than welcome to try some. If you’d like.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom felt his mouth water a little. The French fries and juice box he’d had were not cutting it, and the granola bar he’d had for breakfast was mediocre at best. “If you wouldn’t mind… it does smell amazing.” Chloe scooped a few spoonfuls of rice, meat, and green beans onto the lid of her lunchbox, and passed it to him. He suppressed a moan as the delicious combination of sweet, savory, and umami hit his palate all at once. “Holy shit, your mom is the best cook in the world,” he agreed breathlessly. Chloe giggled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let her know you agree with me. I know the food here isn’t always the best, so I prefer to bring stuff from home. I’m glad you like it!” She munched on a green bean, and looked at Tom. “Where did you live before your dad got stationed here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom scrambled for an answer. “London. I lived in London. Yep.” That was basically true. He did live in London. “What about you? What does your dad do?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A shadow passed over Chloe’s face. She didn’t answer for a few seconds, and then said quietly, “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the thousandth time that day, Tom felt like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chloe’s brows furrowed slightly, but then sat up. The sadness that seemed to consume her a moment ago left as quickly as it had come. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t know. Besides,” she smiled, refilling his makeshift plate with meat and rice, “pork belly has magical powers. It makes people wanna talk about things.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tom chuckled and they continued eating. “Thank you so much. This is so good. Your name was Chloe, right?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Chloe Tang. Nice to meet you… Ben?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s me. Ben Perkins.” They exchanged glances and simultaneously looked back down at their food. Tom was feeling much more excited about the next two days. Perhaps his suggestion of going undercover wasn’t such a joke after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you would like to follow this story, find it on Wattpad!</p>
<p>https://www.wattpad.com/1041252559?utm_source=ios&amp;utm_medium=link&amp;utm_content=share_reading&amp;wp_page=reading_part_end&amp;wp_uname=TG4ChrisEvans&amp;wp_originator=2ZfLxDIutfagPz7X0Phtk2yvfBFdQ2wbDYudjkUerPTYdIxvlSNQ9rDUGfRkCDWj%2BO5KPYE88LDn%2B%2BxAHvDXW9Az3j%2FEQxQDLwESuw9NgLiKGLTqGhdM4TxhPTO7WJmZ</p></blockquote></div></div>
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